Guidance
by Flying Feather
Summary: Bruce intends to finish the conversation he started at the Diner all those weeks ago. Clark is up to his neck with guilt. Dick puts in his two cents. And for Ma Kent, things have just gotten started.
1. Chapter 1

Clark knew that Bruce had brought this second meeting about on purpose. Bruce liked putting Clark in these types of situations. The ones he could only escape if a rare opportunity presented itself. But somehow, the Dark Knight usually managed to seal off any and all possible exits, especially if his prey had managed to slip away previously. He_ always _learned from his mistakes.

They weren't in some small time diner this time. He couldn't just walk out.

No. Bruce Wayne had personally called Perry White, head of the _Daily Planet_, and requested that one of their reporters, Clark Kent, cover his newest fundraiser event being held at the Gotham's own City Hall.

Everyone knew that Bruce Wayne always got his way, which is why now, dressed in a sleek and professional tie and suit combo, that Superman hid himself behind a pair of thick glasses, a note pad and his alter ego, talking to various patrons while being followed by a grinning Mr. Wayne. After the flashes of only a few dozen cameras in his partner's direction, did the Kryptonian get a chance to talk to Bruce personally.

"You could have picked a quieter place for us to talk," Clark grumbled, stuffing his note pad in his pocket. He noticed Bruce casually snag a glass of wine off a traveling server. "And called _me_ instead of Perry," the Man of Steel added resentfully. His boss expected him to stay through out this entire event, which is just what Bruce wanted.

And Bruce Wayne _always _got what he wanted.

The billionaire gave a small smile ignoring the glass he held in his hand. He did a quick glance around before restarting his conversation with Clark. "If I had done that we wouldn't be talking," he stated flatly, his bubbly and cheerful playboy routine completely gone. "Just because you left our last conversation with out the intent of finishing it doesn't mean it's over."

Clark's blue eyes lowered behind his frames. "If that's why you dragged me out here then you can—"

"That's exactly why I brought you here." Bruce's own hues narrowed at his teammate. "You cant' keep running from this."

"I'm handling it."

Bruce raised an unamused eyebrow, setting his untouched drink down on a decorated side table. He slipped his hands casually in his pockets, closely observing the other man. "Handling it? Are you now?" he slowly spoke, his voice soft. If Clark didn't have super hearing he probably would be demanding for Bruce to speak up. But Bruce's quiet tone was proving a point. Everything he did was to prove a point.

"Look. This whole mess—"

"It's only become a mess because _you've_ allowed it to get this far."

Now, if Clark hadn't been a man of restraint, he would have had a few choice words for Bruce at that particular moment. He couldn't believe that Bruce, of all people, was telling him he wasn't handling this situation correctly. It was ironic for Clark really. It was Bruce who had been so untrusting the night they had found Superboy, had so many suspicions circling around him and why the boy needed to be monitored. But for the past few weeks now, he'd been asking Clark to do something he simply couldn't do in such a short time.

Basically, Bruce was telling Clark to 'get over it' in his own, strange way.

"What do you want me to do?" Clark demanded towards his friend, his arms thrown out in exasperation. Bruce scowled. "You're asking me to be this boy's father. I can't do that, Bruce." The Kryptonian sighed rubbing two of his fingers between his eyes. "I... I know I should, but I can't. I won't."

There seemed to be a slight stroke of understanding that graced Bruce's sharp features. He watched Clark for a few moments before speaking. "He disturbs you. He reminds you of something terrifying, something that's been troubling you long before his arrival. It's unfair to take _your_ problems out on him. After what he's been through, he needs you."

Clark snapped his attention away from Bruce and to the patrons roaming the room in their expensive attire. He folded his arms, his super hearing listening to bits and pieces of conversation that floated around the room. Anything was better than listening to Bruce pick him apart. Superboy did trouble him, did disturb him. He was _made_ from him.

Someone had gotten a hold of his DNA.

That thought alone was enough to set the Man of Steel of into a sprout of spiraling questions and theories. He knew Bruce had to be wondering the same things, but it was so unlike the Dark Knight to encourage interaction with Superboy, especially since the clone was something that not only the pair of them had feared, but the League as well.

But maybe Bruce knew something he didn't...

A familiar, nasally shout echoed through Clark's ears bringing a light smile to his face and melting his confusion.

"You said Barbara was going to be here!" whined a young boy. Both Clark and Bruce loosened their postures upon seeing Bruce's ward emerge from the sea of people. Clark watched with interest as Bruce gave a slick smile towards Dick, extending his arm out and pulling his boy into a one armed embrace. Dick looked up at the billionaire suspiciously, unimpressed by the gesture. "I could be out, y'know, doing something fun instead of being trapped here! You totally lied about her coming so I'd be force to suffer."

"Afraid so. But, if Alfred is making me come, I'm making you," Bruce explained watching the younger with a small amount of pride. Dick scoffed at the explanation.

"It's not like you're alone. You have, Mr. Kent," Dick pointed towards the reporter, rolling his eyes. Clark always found it amusing when Dick called him by his Earth name; he always added a playful spin to it. Dramatically, Dick clung onto Bruce's arm, bright blue eyes glaring up at the older man. "This is such a disaster. Heavy on the _dis_. I'm bored outta my mind!"

Clark let out a small chuckle. He had always enjoyed Dick. He was so unlike his mentor in so many ways that made the pair of them a great balancing act. He was the light to Bruce's dark. Not to mention, he had given Bruce that line of hope that he had lost along his crusade. Clark had seen the change in Bruce when he had taken Dick in those long six years ago. And though Bruce never came out and openly showed his love for the boy in the form of smothering hugs or constant kisses, Clark knew that Bruce cared about that kid more than anything. He'd do anything for him.

And then a cold feeling plummeted into Clark's stomach.

This was_ all _part of Bruce's plan. Bruce had brought Dick along for this very reason. Bruce was trying to instill this very thought into Clark's mind. He was trying to have Clark see what he _could _have if he only gave Superboy a chance.

Clark felt himself get a bit heated upon that realization. This approach seemed rather low in the man's opinion. As effective as it was, Clark couldn't help but feel enraged about it. He got Bruce's point; sure, he shouldn't take out his uncertainties out on Superboy, but he couldn't openly become something for this kid that he wasn't. That would be even worse than just ignoring the clone. He'd be lying to him.

And Superman _wasn't_ a liar.

_Or_ a father.

"Bruce," Clark interrupted. The out of costumed vigilante paused in his conversation with Dick, nodding for the boy to get them some of those, as Dick put it, 'amazingly sweet cheese cake cubes', while him and Clark resumed their grievous talk from earlier. Clark saw Dick out of the corner of his eye spinning around, his hues looking back and forth at the pair before retreating towards the refreshment stand. Seeing the uncertainty that lingered in Dick's eyes made Clark uncomfortable.

Did Dick know what they were discussing?

"He's worried about him," Bruce abruptly brought up. He only turned back to Clark once he saw Dick's tiny form vanish between a swarm of colorful dresses and fancy suits. "It's why I wanted to talk."

Clark raised a brow behind his spectacles. "Worried about, Superboy?" Clark couldn't help but feel dumbfounded. "Why?"

"You're not the only one adjusting to this discovery." Bruce exhaled sharply and Clark could feel how important this conversation, how this clone, was becoming for Bruce. "Look, as much as I'd _like_ to know how the boy came to be, there's no point in punishing him for our insecurities. He's here now, he's going to be here for a while; there's no point in denying that anymore."

"I'm not denying the fact that he's here. It's just—"

Bruce's hollow voice cut off his teammate, his dark eyes taking into staring absentmindedly of towards the golden floral wallpaper. "When I first found out that someone else had lost their parents like I had, I felt angry. I felt like I hadn't done what I sought out to do, that fate was mocking me."

Clark held himself back from speaking as he listened to Bruce. "I failed from my ultimate goal of making this city a safer place. When I saw Dick that night running over towards the crumpled bodies of his mother and father, I've never felt such strong emotions surge through me. 'It wasn't fair,' I kept repeating to myself that night. 'It wasn't supposed to happen to anyone else.'

"I admit, I was surprised at my own actions in volunteering to watch over him until his parents' killer had been caught. I felt I owed him that much. A safe haven. But I wasn't very good at comforting people. People had always come to comfort me." Bruce's calm voice carried a hushed sadness laced in a few words every now and then. Clark, slightly surprised at his friend, watched him seem to swallow an invisible pill as he continued speaking. "I wasn't good at accepting defeat either. Every time I saw Dick, I could only think of my _own_ failures. I kept thinking over and over again that I had let my parents down, let the Graysons down, let Dick down... simply looking at him made years of training seem worthless. I wasn't equipped to deal with these sorts of things. So, I ignored them, and in a direct following, I ended up ignoring Dick. I told myself it was better this way. I'd find him a real home once I caught Zucco, there was no point in getting close to him. It'd make the separation more difficult.

"It wasn't until Dick did something irrational that I realized that my own self pity and inquires hadn't help one bit. He had run off. And it was in that moment that I felt_ true_ fear. I remember where I was at that exact moment that Alfred called me. I'll never forget that feeling," Bruce seemed to embrace the memory, his lips twitching slightly. "My own selfish actions could have gotten him killed, Clark. If I hadn't had gotten there in time—"

"But you did," Clark squeezed in, uneasy with how close Bruce's recollection of Dick's past seemed to be fitting his and Superboy's.

Bruce's eyes looked over the Kryptonian with a warning gaze. "If I hadn't, he'd be buried right there next to his parents," the billionaire added icily. Clark felt a small ball of sympathy blossom for Bruce at the moment. He could tell his friend still carried guilt for his early actions towards his ward. He could tell Bruce hated those moments, but he had still learned from them.

"The point being," Bruce was still speaking to Clark, but his eyes had darted off towards the right, scanning over the crowd to see if Dick was near by. "The longer you put off speaking to the boy, the worse you'll end up making this. The more you'll regret it if something _does_ happen. Clark, I never saw myself as a father. I still don't. But to Dick... I am his father. Dick knows I'm always there for him, knows he can always talk to me. You need to give Superboy the same offer. He needs the—"

"You're asking me to do something—"

"Something you can't?" Bruce crossed his arms. The Batman-like aura certainly was pouring through his expensive suit. "I'm not asking anymore, I'm _telling_. It's not a matter of question. The boy needs guidance. _Your_ guidance."

"He has Red. He has you."

"Yes, he does. But," Bruce's cold eyes locked onto Clark's, his voice in a low growl: "That's not who he _wants_."

Clark curled his fingers into angry fists, glaring back up at Bruce as if he was being punished. "You said it yourself, he could be a weapon! Someone designed to get close to me to destroy me, the League, or even something more! How can I sit down and talk with him with those worries and doubts? How can I lie to him? If he found out I was leading him on, he'll loathe me even more!"

Bruce frowned. "Which is why it's important you gain his trust or friendship. It's important that he has someone he can turn to if that happens to be his true intent. Who better than the man he was inspired after? You may not know, but these kids, not just Superboy, idolize the way you—"

Clark sighed in frustration. "I can't put either of us through that, Bruce. It's better this way."

The playboy looked as if he wanted to argue, but at that moment, his young charge came beaming through the crowd holding a large plate filled with neatly baked squares of cheese cake. Clark saw the opening as an opportunity to cease the current topic and speak with Dick to avoid Bruce's barrage of emotional turmoil. He certainly knew how to make the Man of Steel uneasy.

"I didn't interrupt your date, did I?" the out of costumed Boy Wonder grinned deviously holding up the plate of desserts for the two older men to try. "You both look ready for a fight. Please tell me the Joker or Harley Quinn or someone got lose so I can ditch this tie."

"No such luck," Bruce replied casually, picking up one the tiny desserts. Clark repeated the billionaire's motion, and surprisingly, found himself reaching for another one quickly after his first. They were good...

Dick beamed watching the two indulge on a few more. "Told you. They're awesome. Is there anything Alfred can't cook?" Dick asked with a grin. Bruce gave a half smile, his focus on his ward. Clark watched him look over Dick with a certain gleam before flickering his hues towards Clark. The reporter instantly felt a burning sting near his heart.

If he didn't know that Bruce was human, he could have sworn that Batman had some sort of powerful and supernatural gaze that made people relive painful emotions. Nervously, Clark grabbed at his tie, loosening it slightly. "Well, I... better get some_ real_ interviews so Perry doesn't think I just came to eat all of Alfred's cheese cake."

He gave Dick a small good-bye nod, his gaze turning up to meet Bruce's hesitantly. There was an awkward sense of responsibilities placed between the two, Bruce staring down Clark like a lion would his prey. Finally, the Man of Steel broke the current of uneasiness, waving good by at the father and son before hastily blending into the crowd.

Silently, Bruce continued to watch the alien until the teenager at his side regained his attention.

"So, how'd the talk go?" Dick inquired the taller man. Upon receiving no answer, Dick frowned and tried again, realizing that something must have gone wrong. "Bruce, what's wrong?" the acrobat asked with a wince as he observed his mentor.

Bruce said nothing at first, his arms wrapping around Dick and pulling him into a solemn and very light embrace as he watched the Kryptonian trail off into the crowd. Dick, though slightly confused, returned the gesture, his small arms barley wrapping around Bruce's sturdy frame. "You okay?" the boy asked. "What'd he say?"

"If you ever need anything Dick, please, don't hesitate to ask."

Dick gave a light chuckle, his face curving into a little smile. "I know, Bruce. You've always told me that."

Bending down to be eye level with Dick, Bruce brought his hands up to rest firmly on the youth's shoulders. His hands, strong and feared in Gotham's underbelly, were as delicate as ever, squeezing his ward slightly and giving a small, almost hard to see smile. Dick looked back confident that this was Bruce's silent way of saying 'I love you' but made no say to repeat those thoughts. He smiled back up at his mentor, his head twisting over his shoulder catching glance of Clark interviewing one of Gotham's Elite, Veronica Vreeland.

"So, do you think he'll talk to, Superboy?" Dick inquired watching Bruce slowly stand up tall. The billionaire gave no answer at first, confirming Dick's suspicions that the conversation hadn't been as effective as Bruce originally wanted. Sighing, the youth voiced his opinion. "And he thinks Superboy is the kid here... tch."

Bruce only nodded in agreement with his ward.

There was silence between the duo for a while, Bruce's intent gaze locked onto Clark. Dick, with crossed arms, suddenly broke through with an idea as he watched his mentor brood over his loss. "Maybe I could talk to him." Instantly, the older man raised a brow towards the younger. Dick encouraged his idea.

"No really, maybe I could get him to realize that what he's doing is... wrong. He's Superman. He shouldn't be acting like this. I mean, Wally has a better sense of right and wrong at this point then he does," Dick added with a snicker.

"Well, there's still one more call we can make," Bruce began slowly, the gears in his mind turning.

At the sudden idea of someone more powerful than Batman making the Boy Scout himself squirm under their gaze, the out of costumed Boy Wonder grew excited. "Really?" Dick asked, confused as to who could get Superman guilty enough to realize how pig headed and stubborn he was being. "To who? Lois, maybe?" he catechized devilishly, his crooked grin covering most of his face.

The World's Greatest Detective only responded with two words as he headed back into the glistening sea of expensive suits and gowns motioning for his young charge to follow, a slightly smirk crawling up his face as he did so: "His mother."

With one of his classic cackles, that could only be heard by Bruce, the teenager tilted his bright hues towards the Man of Steel who unexpectedly continued his droll interviews. "Oh, totally _busted_!"

**Author's Note**: Yea, I went there. I needed more closure on the whole Bruce/Clark discussing Superboy thing. Batman is way too stubborn to not keep poking and prodding at Superman to grow up about this situation. As for bringing in Mrs. Kent herself, well, I didn't want this to be a one shot, and if there's one person besides Batman that's as good as nagging at Superman, it'd have to be his mother. I have several little plot bunnies for this story now, so, drop a review and tell me what you'd think! Especially if you favorite it: tell me why, I'd love to hear it!


	2. Chapter 2

Clark knew that Lois had brought this argument upon the two of them on purpose. Lois liked putting Clark in these types of situations. The ones he could only escape if a rare opportunity presented itself. But somehow, the _Daily Planet's_ star reporter managed to seal off any and all possible exits, especially if her prey had managed to slip away previously. She_ always _learned from her mistakes.

There wasn't anything requiring Superman's attention this time. He couldn't just sneak out.

No. Lois Lane had personally locked herself in Clark's office demanding answers. "I can't believe Perry gave _you_ the Wayne event and_ I_ got stuck covering a sewage spill! How'd you _work_ that, Smallville?"

Clark pushed the brim of his glasses further up his nose as he typed delicately on his computer. He tried his best to ignore Lois' tone. She often got jealous when she wasn't covering the top story of the century. Not to mention, she had a thing for Bruce Wayne and was more than irritable now that a night of potential interviewing and drinks with Gotham's playboy had been snatched up by mild mannered Clark Kent.

Clark, however, was greatly relieved that she hadn't gone.

Lois was still chattering away. "Did you bribe him or something, Kent?"

Sighing, Clark peeled back from his work doing his best to sound humble. "Perry said that Mr. Wayne had asked for me personally. Said he really liked my last interview I covered at the Gotham's Children Hospital," Clark said softly and polity, hoping it would defuse Lois' already sky rocketing temper. "I asked if you could come Lois, but Perry insisted that someone needed to be here to cover that spill."

Lois scowled at the answer: "Marie could have covered it. Besides, you're such a stiff when it comes to parties. You probably didn't even had fun! I'm going to have a word with, Perry. I'll see you at lunch, Clark," Lois called out over her shoulder, her strong purple heels making stiff scrapes against the carpet as she trotted off, determined to make Perry White reconsider his choices in the reporting world.

With a sigh of relief, Clark leaned back in his chair. If he didn't love that woman, he probably would have requested a change in careers for all the grief she gave him.

And after last night, he _really _didn't need anymore grief.

The next few hours passed slowly for Clark as he finished up his article and, after a quick check of the police scanner and local news channels, decided he'd treat himself out to a nice, peaceful lunch with out Lois' constant questioning and criticism. He popped his hat on top of his head, grabbed his satchel, and headed quietly out of his office to avoid a certain raven haired vixen. Thankfully, Clark heard her bellowing out her opinions to Perry on the floor above him. _Poor, Perry..._ the alien thought as he boarded the elevator.

"Hey, Mr. Kent! Hold that elevator!" came Jimmy Olsen's cheerful voice as he darted across the cubicles and desks towards the elevator. He nearly slipped in, his sneakers making an unpleasant sound against the tile inside, as Clark easily held the door back. "Whew! Thanks!"

"No problem, Jimmy." Clark smiled, making room for the red head. Clark had always (well, most of the time) enjoyed Jimmy's company. He was a good, ambitious kid. He also had a certain talent for capturing unique photos, especially those with Superman in them. Perry had seen the boy's potential and often teamed him up with Lois on hometown assignments.

Clark remembered Lois complaining for a good two weeks before she started going easy on the kid. "Perry give you a new assignment?" Clark asked, taking notice of the kid's camera and backpack stuffed to the brim with equipment.

"Sure did! Big show down town today. Lex Luthor is there cutting the ribbon for the grand re-opening of Metropolis Park," the cub reporter squeaked out with excitement. Clark beamed back a smile for Jimmy, but secretly cringed on the inside at the mention of Lex Luthor. Knowing Lex, Clark suspected there was some sort of gain for the man doing this. He never did anything with out a price...

Jimmy, oblivious to the harden glare forming on Clark's face, continued to chant on about the event. "I'm just hoping that the man himself shows up."

Clark, snapped out of his daze, raised an eyebrow behind his spectacles. "Who?"

"Superman!" Olsen cheered, his hands tightening around his backpack straps. "Wouldn't that be an awesome shot? Superman and Lex Luthor shaking hands right after the ribbon was cut?"

Kent stifled a grunt. "I, um... not so sure that will happen, Jimmy." Him, shaking hands with Lex? Not in a million years...

The kid looked almost offended. "Why not?"

Now, Jimmy wasn't as experienced as Lois was in the particular element of journalism and snooping, but he wasn't born yesterday. He looked up at the older man, slight confused as to why he would think differently. Clark quickly sputtered the first thing that came to his mind. "I heard that um, Superman is off world right now. In space," Clark lied, hoping that the boy would bite that excuse as the elevator dinged that they had arrived on the ground level.

"Oh... who told you that?" Jimmy asked, looking nearly impressed as the duo exited, Jimmy tailing behind a hurried Clark. "Got an insider's scoop or something? Have you told Ms. Lane?"

"Listen, I have to meet someone and I'm late. Promise to fill you in when I get back." Clark pushed through the glass swivel doors, doing his best to keep his super strength intact as he did so. "See you later, Jimmy."

Usually, Clark didn't brush off his co-workers. And usually he didn't feed them lies like that either. But lately, Clark found himself running low on fuel, or perhaps tolerance. After last night, that conversation with Bruce was still as fresh in his mind as the second it began. He had been plagued with Bruce's cold, strong words all morning.

Maybe lunch would settle his nerves, let him refocus his energies instead of burning them on a conversation that was already done and over with.

"He took my purse! Someone stop him!"

Or maybe not.

Clark paused, assessing the situation. Young woman, no older then twenty, was flailing about as the thief, a scruffy and rough looking man, ducked into a near by alley with her purse. They were about thirty yards away. Easy stuff. He yanked his glasses off his face, running towards the culprit. It wasn't until he rounded the corner, his jacket half unbuttoned, that Clark heard a fit of familiar laughter.

The reporter stopped, mildly amused as he gently set his glasses back in place and re-buttoned his jacket. The robbery was under control. Before him, Robin, the Boy Wonder, was standing on top of the thief, a wicked grin plastered across his face. He held the woman's purse, the strap wrapped around his gloved fingers as the boy mocked the older.

"Talk about cliché," Robin commented, almost bored with such a common act of chivalry. "Not to mention down right_ rude_. Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's wrong to steal?"

The man groaned, his hands rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head. "I'm going to take that as a 'no'. Well," the kid flipped himself off the thug, landing neatly besides him. Swinging the purse over his shoulder, he reached into one of the back satchels of his belt and pulled out a set of handcuffs. "Hopefully you've learned a thing or two on the finer points of society." He quickly cuffed the culprit to a near by side building fire escape, ignoring the curses and grumbles the man gave in protest.

With his spirits high, the acrobat began to head out of the alley, his masked hues narrowing in acknowledgment as he spotted Clark. "Hey! I was just on my way to see you."

Dumbfounded, the Kryptonian merely blinked as Bruce's protegé strolled up towards him. He had been on his way here? To see him? Well, at least that explained what Robin was doing in Metropolis... but now that opened another door of questions.

"Here you are, Miss," Robin politely chirped, the owner of the purse rushing up behind Clark and picking up her stolen property with sheer joy. The alien had almost forgotten she was there. Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head as the woman repeatedly thank Robin over and over, Clark cleared his throat and gave a feint nod towards the boy.

"Thanks again, so much," the woman peeped after Robin gave a final salute and pulled out his grapple gun. With in seconds he had fired the device, and seemingly soared up the top of the nearest buildings. Clark caught the faintest sounds of the kid's voice: "Meet me at your place."

Clark narrowed his eyes. What _was_ Robin up to?

* * *

><p>"Mr. Kent, long time no see."<p>

Clark gave a half chuckle and confused grin as he rounded the corner of his apartment hallway and spotted a now civilian clad Boy Wonder, leaning against his door and tilting his shades off in the Kryptonian's direction. He tapped on Clark's door, silently signaling to the alien that he'd been waiting for a good while. "To what do I owe this visit, Dick?" the older man asked, curiously as he began to unlock his door, Dick right on his heels. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"It's Saturday."

"Right." _Figures..._ the Man of Steel thought suspiciously, opening his door and allowing Dick to step in first. "Bruce isn't hiding in here, is he?"

Dick's face brightened at the possible thought of Batman jumping out from behind the couch to scare Superman. "Nah. He's with someone right now. You actually know her. It's just me. So, you're safe." Clark noticed the kid removed his shades as soon as the door had been shut and slipped off his shoes politely at the door. Clark shook his head; he was sure that sort of training had come from Alfred.

"I actually stopped by here to see you," Dick began softly, making his way over towards the blue couch. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you last night."

As soon as those words were uttered Clark felt his throat tighten and his eyes wide. He placed his satchel and jacket down near his side table before briskly making his way over towards the small kitchen. He could feel Dick's baby blues following his every movement, waiting for him to acknowledge his statement. _Damn it, Bruce. You just couldn't drop it, _Clark thought. _You had to bring, Dick into now. _

Nervously, Clark reached up and pulled out two mugs. He held them up, an unsure grin on his face. "Tea?"

"Kryptonian tea?" Dick asked hopefully.

Clark gave a large smile. "Only if _Earl Grey_ was from Krypton."

Dick paused in thought before nodding. "Sure."

There was silence again, Clark's mind working a mile a minute, trying to comprehend this situation.

Bruce had to have put Dick up to this. It was bad enough that Bruce had dragged their conversation out last night, somewhere where those sort of conversations shouldn't be held, but now he put Dick up to talking with him. The thought alone tempted Clark to pull out his phone and blow Bruce's ears clean off his head for that. Dick was just a child; he didn't need to be burdened with two older men's quarrels.

"Bruce didn't put me up to this," Dick called over, relaxing comfortably on the couch, smiling like he was some sort of mind reader. He already had found the television remote and was currently blazing through channels. "I wanted to talk to you, y'know? As friends, not some agent."

Well, there went his ideas of bashing Bruce.

"Listen, Dick," Clark began, not really surprised that Dick had been aware of what transpired between him and Bruce. Sometimes Clark thought Bruce had trained his ward almost _too _well. His large fingers nervously fiddled with his packets of tea. "What happen between Bruce and I last night was—"

"—totally _dis_astrous," the teenager finished for the Man of Steel. Clark's hues widen watching Bruce's boy lift himself up from the comfort of the couch and direct, what appeared to be, a practiced monologue towards him. "You're Superman. The guy more than _half_ of the kids in the world want to be. The guy grown _men _look up to. That _I_... look up to..." the young hero added shyly. If one looked closely, you could see the slight pink edge rising in Dick's cheeks.

Setting down the mugs, Clark frowned, his fingers slowly wrapping around his glasses as he pulled them off and got a good view of the kid. There he was, unafraid that he was talking to Superman, sitting up right with a determined grin and a hopeful gleam in his eyes. No, Bruce hadn't put Dick up to this. The man could see that now. Standing before him wasn't just some kid. It was a young man with a mission, an honest goal: to have Superman hear him out.

Clark would grant him that.

"Look, I know that this whole Superboy this is... strange," Dick continued, his face expressing exhaustion on the subject. "It's strange for both of you. But, the Clark Kent I know, the man who taught me to always see the good in others, well, I haven't seen him around lately," the teenager pointed out, sad hues looking glazed up at the older. "And I know when I really needed help, he always offered. There's another kid that really needs it though, more than me now."

It was like a rocket had hit Superman in the face. Not even when he held his conversation Bruce had he felt the wind taken out of him quite like this. Bruce had attacked his responsibilities, his adulthood, but Dick right went to the heart. He attack Clark_ personally_. He attacked the Kryptonian as a living symbol to this planet and to his friends and family; attacked what he stood for.

For a mere boy to have shaken such emotion in Clark, well, needless to say the alien was whelmed. Overwhelmed in fact.

It took Clark a few moments to regain his train of thoughts before Dick came crashing down on him verbally once more. He was sitting on the kitchen counter top now, his small frame so close to Clark's large one. It made the man uneasy. Up close he saw each frown line on Dick's young face, heard the hitch in his breathing, listened to his heart beat faster at the conflict.

"Don't tell me I don't understand, there's no point in it. Yea, I _don't_ have my own clone and _no_, my privacy has never been violated like that. But, being the last one in my family, if I found out that there was another, from blood or not, I'd want to _seek_ them out, not push them away." Clark saw how that tugged at the kid's heart. How Dick almost looked jealous that Clark's family had grown by one. He was familiar with Dick's background and how terrible it was. But he had seen the good that Bruce had done for the boy, how much the kid had grown through out the years. How the scary and sinister Batman had opened up that rickety old box he called a heart to let a child be spared from the same revenge filled rage he had been hunched over.

Clark envied Bruce's compassion. He truly did. While Superman showed his joy and love on his sleeve, Batman kept his hidden away. Clark Kent was just the opposite. A mild mannered, and often short and simple with people while Bruce Wayne, billionaire extraordinaire was always open and generous, not hiding his love for his ward as they attended charities and parties.

Ironic how their dual identities conflicted with each other like that. Always the opposite of each other.

After several minutes of silence, Clark having resorted back to making tea (his heat vision working nicely to make the tea), he struggled to come up with an answer for the Boy Wonder. But he couldn't. Everything just sounded to cookie-cutter or generic, things that Dick wouldn't fall for. But then it hit Clark; he didn't want to tell lies to the teenager. Not at all, but he wasn't sure how to answer to someone of Dick's caliber. Nothing he would say would allow peace between the two.

At this rate, Clark would have preferred the conversation with Bruce. Dick was far more fickle went it came to things he cherished as important. The silence was finally broken, just as the tea had finished cooling, two gently, steaming, hot mugs resting between the pair of heroes. "Dick... things are complicated," he finally settled on, displeased with how empty it sounded, how 'it's-none-of-your-business' it sounded.

Luckily for the Man of Steel, his conversationalist wasn't easily intimidated by such answers. "Selfishness isn't complicated, Clark," Dick retorted sharply, his fingers delicately grabbing his mug. "It's just fear."

"Who said I was afraid?" the older demanded, arms crossed over his broad chest. It was rather pointless to try and intimidate Dick. He did live with the Batman after all.

"_You_ did every time you pushed Superboy away. He's trying to adjust too," Dick reminded Clark. "And if there's one person on this planet that could really help him, it'd be you."

Clark sighed, nervously picking up his lone glasses and putting them gently in his pocket. "I don't know how to explain this to you, Dick... this whole thing with Superboy—"

"_Conner,_" Dick interrupted, a slick grin on his face. "His name is Conner. He has a secret identity now."

Superboy. No,_ Conner_. Dick had just called the clone _Conner_. The kid had a name. When had that happened? How did it happen? I mean, Clark wasn't upset that Superboy now had another, more proper name, but why or how or even _when_ had this transpired? Not that it mattered but, there was a small part of the alien that would have liked to have known about that...

A smirk crawled up Dick's face watching Clark's brows twitch. "You would have known if you saw him off on his first day of school."

"He's going to school?" There was no way that would work. The whole school would be in jeopardy with that kid's powers and his often hot-headed temper. Clark knew first hand. Though he had never been as angry as Sup— _Conner _was, there were times when he had trouble concealing his Kryptonian abilities, especially when he was upset, angered or nervous. Times where he'd ask his mother if he could stay home for the day so others wouldn't be at risk.

"Yup," Dick said briskly, sipping on his tea. "He started just last month. He's doing real well too. Do you have an sugar?" Dick suddenly asked, as if their conversation was as simple as talking about last night's football game.

"He... um, sugar? Yes, one moment." Clark seemed bewildered, reaching behind him and grabbing his container of sugar. He gently handed it over to Dick, who smiled in response, before returning his conversation back towards Conner. "So, he's successfully attending school? I thought you said you were worried about him..."

"I am. I'm worried because he can't control himself," Dick explained flatly. "He's gotten better with Canary's sessions, but those are for combat purposes. Teaching someone how to not break people's faces when ramming your fist into them and how to act _completely_ normal in public are two different courses. Dinah is only really excelling at one of those. I'm sure you can figure out which one," the acrobat added dryly.

"Dinah is a decent teacher. I'm sure she's—"

"—Miss Martian says on Conner's _first_ day she had to mentally remind him to not use his powers several times. He broke a few seats in the bleachers, but she doesn't think anyone thought anything odd of it. Apparently those seats are fragile. But strange things keep happening around him. Eventually people _will_ notice, Clark."

The Kryptonian frowned, his fingers delicately holding onto his mug with ease. That sort of training, of discipline, had taken a lot of hard work. He remembered when his father had to buy new glasses or plates every other month because Clark would break one every now and again. And those types of accidents can only be covered up so easily before people grow suspicious. He recalled accidentally breaking the water fountain once when he was drinking because someone had bumped into him, during gym he broke the basketball just by dribbling it and during a school dance his x-ray vision decided it wanted to work more efficiently... Thank goodness he played most of those off as dumb luck and clumsiness. Most people just rolled their eyes at silly Clark Kent.

"Clark, he's _so_ angry. He needs you to help him. I'd do it myself but I can't reliably bend a truck in half, so, my demonstrations might _not_ have the same effect. I can't really tell him I know how he feels and what I did to manage."

Clark feigned a smile at Dick's light attempt at humor, but his thoughts were drifting elsewhere. Despite his fears of Sup— _Conner_, if he didn't teach the kid how to handle his powers then innocent people could be hurt in his learning process. But when he had been young, there had been no one to help him. Though the Kents had done their best to help their adoptive son control and contain his gifts, they never truly understood what it was like to wield such power and responsibility.

Just like Bruce. Bruce had no one to comfort him after his parents murder so he turned his life into a crusade to see that no one else suffered. Though Alfred had been at his side, he didn't understand that feeling. And sitting before Clark now was a child Bruce had believed he had failed by not keeping his parents safe and was doing his best to save. Clark thought he had done a good job. Dick, though he would never have a_ normal _childhood, was happy, all things considered. Bruce had given Dick a chance, the chance he was _never_ given.

All Bruce and Dick were asking of Clark was to give Conner that chance.

And all Clark could do was come up with reasons to avoid giving Conner that chance. In reality, it wasn't too much to ask for. But...

He couldn't risk it. He couldn't do it. And though Dick had surely placed a heavy layer of self-condemnation upon the guilty cake Bruce had smothered him with last night, Clark still had to stick by his guns. Superboy hadn't been created to_ help_ Superman, not if Cadmus had their sticky fingers involved. No, there was some underlying plot. Clark would _not _take part in Cadmus' game.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

The soft rap at the door jutted Clark from his thoughts. He looked over towards his door, blinking slowly before he heard Dick slide off the counter top, nimbly running over towards the door. "That's alright, Dick. I'll get it—"

Dick didn't seem to pay any mind to the alien, swiftly opening the door, his youthful smirk dancing back onto his face. Clark raised a brow, tilting over his shoulder to get a better look at who the kid was grinning widely at. Dick greeted them cheerfully, his small form being pulled into a warm embrace by—

"_Ma?_" Clark stammered out, his eyes wide with confusion and near shock. He nearly dropped his mug, his hues blinking rapidly as his mother, Ma Kent herself, entered his apartment, Dick holding onto her purse and what appeared to be one of her famous (and nicely wrapped) apple pies. And behind her, looking sleek and slick in his designer suit was Bruce himself, taking his sunglasses off casually and slipping them into his breast pocket of his jacket. He, like Dick had done earlier, slipped his shoes off at the door immediately upon entering the house.

"You look a bit taller," Mrs. Kent commented towards Dick, her old but warm smile causing Dick to look hopeful. He was often picked on at school (and occasionally from Wally) about his height. "You'll be as tall as Bruce in no time, dear."

"Hear that?" Dick grinned wickedly towards Bruce who returned his ward's enthusiasm with a sly smile of his own. Bruce kept his face still as Dick scampered over next to him, gently balancing on his tip toes to feel just a bit taller.

Mrs. Kent, after getting her cardigan hung up properly by the door and her suit case delivered to Clark's spare bedroom (Bruce insisted he'd take it), soon beamed towards her son. "Clark!" Ma said happily, her frail frame wrapping around Clark with a layer of love. Clark (who had set down his mug now) returned the hug, his eyes darting up and over towards a returning Bruce and silently demanding a look that read as: _'Why on Earth is my mother here?'_ Bruce shrewdly glanced back towards his teammate as Dick gave a impish smirk and shook his head.

The Leaguer scowled back at the Dynamic Duo, knowing that he wouldn't get any sort of reasonable answer from them. He'd have to approach this carefully. "Ma," Clark began, pulling back from his hug and politely smiling at his mother. "I didn't know you were coming into town. I didn't get a chance to get anything ready."

"Oh, that's okay," the older woman insisted, patting Clark on the shoulder as she made her way towards the couch. "It was meant to be a surprise. I figured with all the recent surprises _I've _been getting lately that I could add one to _your_ lap instead."

"Surprises?" the alien inquired, unsure of just what Bruce had told his mother._ If only looks could stun... Bruce Wayne would be the very definition of a living statue, _Clark grimly thought.

Nodding, Mrs. Kent quickly turned the television off, her wise eyes setting their sights upon the Man of Steel himself, something most villains didn't have the nerve to even dream of. "Yes. I've been waiting for you to tell me about the young man I've seen on the news. The boy calling himself Superboy."

The color in Clark's face seemed to drain.

"I'd _like _to meet my grandson sometime this _century_, Clark."

Dick glanced up at Bruce. This was _just_ the beginning.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, I originally had something totally different for this chapter. But I hated it and rewrote the whole thing and instead had Dick put in his two cents from a friend's point of view. I like to imagine that Dick and Clark have a close friendship or nephew/uncle type of relationship. I often feel that kids can get across things stronger than adults because they're not really worried about hiding their true intentions or trying to argue about different politics among friends. They tell it like it is and how they feel the situation should be handled. They're fickle. All together, I like that better than what I had before, which was Bruce and Dick bring Ma Kent to the _Daily Planet_ and having Clark being super awkward.

The part with Clark asking Dick about tea is actually a four sentence quote from _Nightwing #102_, page 13, panel 3 between a much older Clark and Dick. I don't own those words, but I love some good Clark and Dick bonding and really thought that would fit in well. :3 Hopefully you guys agree.

And I promise, next chapter is full of Ma Kent picking apart Clark piece by piece in only the way a mother can. If Clark thought Dick and Bruce were bad, sheesh, Ma is a champ. I already started that chapter so hopefully it doesn't take me quite as long to put up. Kinda excited. My first multi-chapter story (that I've actually updated). Can't get the creative juices flowing for_ Ravaged_.

If you could, let me know what you think in a review!


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